A Mother's Instinct
by Nyx6
Summary: Ezra meets Annie Evans, an elderly woman who only adds to his confusion over his relationship with his mother. But there's something that Annie isn't telling him...
1. Chapter 1

**Part One.**

It was early spring in Four Corners. Small tufts of fresh, bright grass were beginning to creep through the dull winter blades, scatterings of small flowers accompanying the new growth, and decorating the surrounding lands in blues and yellows.

Ezra loved the spring air. There was something light and clean about it, cooling and refreshing, like a splash of cold water first thing in the morning. He stood, thumbs looped through his gun belt, hat pulled down low, one leg crossed in front of the other, his weight against a post supporting the awning over the boardwalk.

The sun was playing across the dusty street. The crisp, pale light of late afternoon, casting long distorted shadows across the ground.

"Afternoon Miss. Evens,"

Ezra looked up at the sound of Josiah's cheery voice, and he cast down the street, his eyes falling on the tall, square form of the preacher, who was tapping the brim of his hat in the direction of an elderly woman, her wild white hair in disarray, her face a picture of cynicism and suspicion. She snorted,

"Josiah," came her short, gruff reply.

She turned back to her horse, that was standing patiently tethered to a bar outside the hotel, and began to tug at a bundle attached to the back of the saddle, muttering as she did so.

Josiah took a step towards her,

"Want a hand there?"

The woman turned to look at him sharply.

"No." she snapped, before turning ever so slightly to add grudgingly, "Thank you."

Ezra smiled as the preacher held up his hands in defeat and headed instead towards the saloon, throwing the gambler a nod as he went. Ezra returned the greeting, biting back a laugh as he did so.

Josiah Sanchez, he thought with a roll of his eyes, always trying to extend the proverbial olive branch. Annie Evans however, was not a willing recipient of Josiah's cheeriness, or in fact, as far as he knew, anyone's attempts at civility. She'd arrived in town about four months earlier, taking to a small, ramshackle cabin in the middle of the wilderness. She only made the trip into town every two weeks, to stock up on supplies, and as far as he could see, insult all those who she came into contact with.

As she pulled her pack from her horse with a grunt and turned for a side street, lugging the assorted bundle with her, Ezra stood up, pushing back his hat. It was high time he did something rather than stand around watching the world go by. He hopped nimbly off the boardwalk, and headed for the stables, knowing that he'd promised his own faithful steed a long brush and grooming session, after the many miles the horse had endured for the sake of his master the weeks previous.

Ezra tapped at the brim of his hat as he went, acknowledging those he passed on the way, people strolling along casually, enjoying the warm freshness of the breeze.

It was as he passed by close to where Annie Evans had disappeared that he heard a strange sound. Like a squeal of fright. He paused instantly, his head turning to take in the apparently deserted alley. He waited for a couple of seconds, listening closely, only to be greeted with silence.

He threw a shrug and went to carry on, when a voice echoed up,

"Hey! Get off that!"

It was Annie all right. Her venomous voice tinged with fear.

Ezra wasted no time, drawing his gun, and advancing steadily down the small deserted back street, eyes flicking cautiously from side to side. He didn't see anything however until he rounded the back of the hotel, strewn with empty crates, barrels, and torn, useless sacking. Standing in the middle of it all, was Annie Evens, clutching wildly to her bundle of rags, which were in the process of being torn from her grip by a burly man, wearing an expression of pure rage.

Standing beside the first man, was another man, thinner, but just as fierce looking, holding a gun that he was holding loosely pointed at Annie.

"Grab it already!" He hissed at the bigger man, who turned back to him angrily,

"I'm trying!" he turned back to Annie, "Let go you old witch!" he screamed at her. The second man took a firmer grip of the gun, and waved it about in her face.

"Let go or I swear to God I'll shoot you dead lady!"

Ezra stepped out calmly into the melee, gun pointed expertly at the thinner of the two assailants.

"Now, now, gentlemen," Ezra began smoothly, watching as all eyes turned to him, and the scene before him froze in time, "Is that any way to address your elders?"

The second man went to move his gun, but Ezra was quicker, burying a bullet in the wood inches from the thin man's head, and watching with satisfaction as the man swallowed nervously.

"Drop it," Ezra commanded, his voice no longer so jovial. He turned to the man holding half of Annie's bundle, "And you."

Both complied, although as Annie grabbed back her bundle, the corner flapped down, and two shiny apples dropped out. At once she stooped to grab them, and Ezra watched as the two assailants, hands reluctantly in the air, swapped looks.

"Apples?" whined the larger man, "All that for a bunch of stinkin' apples?"

Annie stood up defensively, stepping towards the man aggressively.

"I sell 'em you idiot! I was looking for a crate to put 'em in before you two started attackin' me!"

"Ezra?" Buck and Vin were advancing down the alley, guns drawn, looking at him quizzically, Ezra threw them a smile,

"Ah gentlemen, just in time."

Vin looked over at him,

"We heard gunfire."

Ezra nodded,

"These two were in the process of robbing Miss. Evans of her home grown produce. If you'd be so kind as to escort them to the jail."

"With pleasure," Buck shot the two men a withering smirk, and Vin turned to the gambler,

"You alright?"

Ezra smiled again, touched by the concern and trying to brush away any hints of surprise he felt,

"Right as reign Mr. Tanner."

Annie hung back as Vin and Buck dragged the two men away, watching cautiously, her eyes falling on the gambler as her two attackers were lead out of view.

Ezra turned, tucking away his gun as he extended a cheery smile and tapped the brim of his hat. He realised there was little point in waiting for any form of appreciation from the old woman, and his thoughts drifted back to his original duty of grooming his horse.

"Good day madam."

Annie stood blinking at him, and as he turned to leave, she felt a sense of panic and confusion overwhelm her.

"Wait!"

Ezra turned on hearing her panic, his face laced with a soft frown,

"Is there something else?"

She blinked at him, and he watched in amazement as she gazed down at the ground in apparent embarrassment.

"You…you saved my life Mr. Standish."

Ezra smiled warmly,

"Oh, I doubt it. Those men weren't the killing kind Miss. Evans, in fact I'm rather amazed they can even remember to draw breath every once in a while."

The joke slid past Annie, and she looked up instead, her eyes connecting with Ezra's in a passionate intensity.

"No Mr. Standish. A debt is a debt."

As Ezra blinked at her in confusion, her face grew cold once again, and she dipped her head and scurried back past him up the alley. Leaving Ezra very surprised and a little confused.

She owed him a debt? He raised his brows as he considered the thought. Just how was she going to pay it back?

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sooooo, new story then! I know I said it might be a while, but hey, still a week and a half before I go to uni, and this idea popped into my head and wouldn't go away.

I felt it was time for some Ezra angst, I've already done Ezra hurt, and Ezra humour, so I thought poor old Ezra's emotions should be the next thing facing a full-frontal assault. It's only going to be another short story…I'm estimating about seven chapters, but basically, Ezra is going to explore the way he sees his mother (sort of) and the things she should have imparted to him over the years. Anyway, I'll stop yabbering now and simply say REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two.**

Ezra was not an early riser. He never had been, as a man who only believed in speed as a necessity, and whose life revolved around the unhurried pace of the gambling tables, it had never been within his nature to arise at the sight of the first morning rays.

To begin with, it had caused no end of troubles, as the other men, with the added exceptions of JD and Buck, who were also prone to some oversleeping, were natural dawn birds, up with the first wisps of light.

But not Ezra. He was not a morning person, and, as his eyes slowly opened to take in his room, bathed in late morning light, he inhaled deeply, and closed them again, the perfect comfort of his mattress and sheets luring him back into the world of sleep.

However, no sooner had he shut his eyes, than they were open again. All grogginess and laziness gone as he pushed himself to his elbows, fully awake, and aware that there was someone in his room.

The figure, silhouetted in the light from the window, was taking his clothes from where they were vaguely folded on the chair by the washstand, transferring them instead to the wardrobe. Letting out a short sigh, the figure straightened up, moving to clutch at their back tenderly, the other hand moving to sweep back wild white hair in disarray.

Ezra frowned,

"Miss. Evans?"

Annie turned to look at him, her expression that of a disapproving school mistress.

"Oh, awake at last are you?" her voice was full of consternation, and she turned to face the bewildered gambler, folding her arms, "I hope you realise it's nearly midday?"

Ezra blinked at her, trying to push back the clouds of puzzlement threatening to overwhelm him.

Annie's hands moved from folded across her chest to her hips, after taking him in for a few moments, she turned, pulling back the drapes and letting the light flood in.

Ezra groaned, his arm moving to shield his eyes as he squinted through the waves of painful brightness. Annie carried on bustling around the room,

"There's newly warmed water in the jug, and I've sharpened your razor up nicely too," she turned to him once more, face still scolding, "Come on. Up!"

Ezra moved into a sitting position, taking his arms away from his eyes as they adjusted slowly to the light. He cleared his throat,

"Um...Miss. Evans. What are you doing?"

Annie didn't hesitate, or pause as she continued to straighten up the room, pulling back the drapes to tether them to the wall hooks.

"I'm tidyin' this place up."

Ezra sighed,

"I can see that, but...why?"

As Ezra struggled to get his head around his wake-up call, Annie turned to him as if it were the simplest thing in the world, her expression softening, her eyes showing a sad affection that moved Ezra somewhere deep inside as she replied.

"Because you need mothering."

Annie brushed her hands against her skirts,

"Now, up you get, I'll make sure breakfast is ready downstairs, your fresh clothes are laid out on the chair for you."

She turned to the door, before stopping to pick up a pillow that had fallen from the bed during the night. Ezra watched in amazement as the elderly woman placed it back on the bed, pulling a loose feather from between the weave. She studied it carefully, almost seeming mesmerized.

"You know, my mother always used to tell me that goose feathers were the signs of guardian angels. Luckiest thing in the world to find one of those. Means someone's looking out for you."

She smiled, almost nostalgically before blinking, as if coming out of a trance. She swallowed, almost self-consciously, and half-turned her head to face Ezra.

"Get dressed now,"

She took a step forward, and opened the door. Suddenly, she gasped, gripping at her side, and taking deep breaths, her hand clinging to the doorknob for support as her eyes squeezed shut.

Ezra watched her puzzled,

"Miss. Evans?" he asked softly.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I'm fine."

She left quickly, the door slamming behind her, and Ezra turned back to take in his empty room. No longer was she Annie Evans, dragon-lady, unnapproachable. Now she was Annie Evans, intruder into his life, seemingly bringing her emotion baggage with her.

Ezra sighed. Rubbing his eyes, trying to ascertain whether it was all a joke, or, even better, a dream.

Was this how she was going to repay her life-debt? He groaned. Hopefully it was only for the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three.**

To say Chris had been surprised to find Annie Evans preparing breakfast for Ezra would have been an understatement. He and Vin were seated at a table in the corner of the saloon, watching as the rising sun cast ever-changing shadows across the dusty floor.

They watched the woman setting up a table setting of some sort for a while before asking what she was doing, her reply, when it came, was grudging, suspicious, and angry. Everything they had expected, and yet, not quite what they had expected at all.

"Can't you people mind your own business? I'm making breakfast for Ezra Standish."

As she bustled back into the recesses of the building to prepare the food, Chris and Vin shared startled glances, each man fairly speechless.

Ezra too seemed fairly surprised as he clunked sleepily down the stairs, eyes still drooping groggily in the glare of the morning sun.

"I trust the morning finds you well gentlemen," he drawled lazily, heading slowly towards him,

Vin looked up at him,

"Well the morning finds you with your own cook," he waved his hand, indicating the table setting, and Ezra turned, spotting the arrangement and groaning.

Chris' eyes narrowed in unamused confusion,

"What's going on Ezra?"

The gambler removed his hand from his face in exasperation and flapped his hand at them warily.

"As soon as I find out, you'll be the first to know," he muttered, taking up a glass and bottle from the bar, and heading to take a seat at their table.

The doors to the back of the saloon banged open, and Annie walked in holding a large jug and a steaming bowl of something, which she set down carefully at the empty table she had prepared in Ezra's absence.

As the smell of the food wafted past his nose, Ezra tried not to retch, the thought of food so close to having woken up making him feel decidedly fragile.

"Come on Mr. Standish," Annie's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp, but at the same time tender, like a scolding mother, only the formality of his surname standing out.

Ezra kept his back to her, raising a hand and using the other to cup at his head in weariness.

"I regret to inform you madam, that food so soon after waking leaves a lot to be desired. Although I'm...appreciative of the effort."

Annie's hands moved to her hips, and a frown spread across her face.

"Don't be ridiculous! Breakfast's the most important meal of the day. Stop being silly and sit down and have something. Come on!"

Chris and Vin blinked at Annie's attitude, exchanging looks of pure bewilderment. As Ezra remained silent, and took up the bottle to pour himself another drink, Annie almost growled,

"Ezra Standish! You come and have breakfast now! You hear me son?"

Everyone stopped as an awkward silence fell over the already quiet establishment, and slowly, Ezra turned to Annie, a slight frown flickering across his face at her expression. Her face was pale, and she seemed to have shocked herself with her outburst.

When Ezra spoke, his voice was calm with a slight edge of warning,

"I am not your son madam, and until I become so, I will not take orders from you. Now, I appreciate your efforts, but please, I have no need for a servant. You do not owe me anything, so do not try to repay me."

Something inside of him was being pushed, something that didn't usually happen unless his mother was around. He felt, helpless, controlled, repressed even, and, along with these feelings, was something else. Annie Evans was getting to him, but she wasn't annoying him, she was unnerving him.

Here she was, this, stranger, performing tasks he had dreamt of his mother doing for him ever since he was a tiny boy. Tidying, preparing, cooking. Mothering. It was as if someone had listened to his childhood pleas and answered them decades later, only, instead of rosy cheeks, and a warm smile, Annie Evans had been thrown into his life, and, as someone who had struggled for the best part of his adult life to leave his confusions about his mother him, it was making Ezra feel as though someone had found his Achilles' Heel, and was chipping away at it.

He didn't feel in control, and he couldn't handle it. He stood up, draining his drink and donning his hat in rather a grand gesture.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you around Miss. Evans. Gentlemen."

The swing-doors flapped behind him as he breezed out, and Vin turned slowly to look back at the elderly lady. Her eyes were clamped shut, and she suddenly seemed to be swaying unsteadily on her feet. She gripped at the table for support and Vin slowly stood.

"Miss. Evans?" he asked softly.

Her eyes flew open in response, eyeing him coldly.

"I don't need your charity Mr. Tanner," she spat, however her gaze softened as she turned to look at the swinging doors, and Chris narrowed his eyes as he looked at her watery eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. As she put a hand to her eyes and turned to scurry from the room, he shared a look with Vin.

Something was up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four.**

Ezra felt secure at the gambling tables, at ease. The green felt and tense, careful expression that surrounded him setting him at perfect ease. Rarely did he feel so in control. He was confident and relaxed on horseback, and even in control of a gun, but there was something different about the tables, a familiarity that had lasted a lifetime. They had scalded him before, angry losers, hotheads and drunks were heavy features in his memories, but never had he lost his sense of ease at gambling. It was like riding, if you fell off, you got back on. He wasn't even sure it was the wining that drove him on any longer, or just the sense of comfort and repetition, so little else of his life had been stable after all, better to have one thing that remained.

Chris, like Ezra, had often privately lamented on this, observing Ezra's relaxed pose, and his complete command of emotions, as well as his command of the game, and those unfortunate enough to be playing him.

They were all looking at the gambler from where they sat along the bar, six heads swivelled to watch their Southern counterpart's expressionless face, with Buck being the first to turn away, casting his eyes down to their black-clad leader,

"What do you mean 'wrong?'" he asked, his voice hushed slightly.

Chris turned his back to the bar, propping his elbows on the counter-top behind him and gave a non-committal shrug,

"All I'm saying is, there's something strange about Annie Evans,"

Nathan, his face remaining impassive studied Chris' face closely,

"Strange how?"

Chris paused, as if trying to sum together his evidence. As he reflected silently, JD waded into the conversation, his voice displaying his own opinions and a lack of concern as he shrugged,

"Well, Ezra saved her life, makes sense to me she'd want to repay him an' all. Hell, I would,"

Vin, leant casually against the bar beside Chris, chipped in,

"Sure you would JD, but you wouldn't set about mothering him, calling him your son now would you? It's not just her, Ezra wasn't none too thrilled about it neither."

A sad smile crossed Josiah's face,

"He's already got one mother who he feels failed him, why does he want to give another the opportunity to do the same? That, and of course, Miss. Evans is not his mother."

Chris nodded,

"Seems to me there's something going on with her. She clearly got drawn into thinking Ezra was her son, or someone she needed to take care of, and then there's that turn she had…"

He let himself trail off, leaving his statement open to interpretation. Nathan frowned,

"You think she's sick?"

Chris shrugged once more, his face coldly expressionless, but at the same time seeming weary.

"I don't know. Something's not right."

Vin looked over at the healer, a smile tugging at his lips,

"And I'll tell you one thing, she won't thank you for digging into her business neither."

Nathan snorted,

"I can believe it."

Chris looked up as a figure entered the saloon, looking, as she always did, slightly out of place, largely through her determination to look otherwise. Mary Travis looked up, her face softening as she caught Chris' eye. She began to thread towards them at once, a piece of paper in her hand.

"Mrs. Travis," Vin tipped his hat to her as she stopped before them, returning his greeting with a smile,

"Mr. Tanner."

"Something wrong Mary?" asked Chris, his face characteristically expressionless, but a hint of worry creeping into his eyes and voice. Mary shook her head,

"No, nothing at all. I have a telegram for Ezra, I've been meaning to give it to him all day but it's been so busy," she pushed back her hair, casting around for the gambler. As she did, Chris narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping low.

"Mary," she turned to look at him at once, "Do you know anything about Annie Evans?"

The question caught her slightly off guard, and she faltered slightly, pausing to think.

"Not much I'm afraid. I know she's widowed and has no family, I think she may have done once, not long after she arrived I went to visit her, she had portraits up on the walls, one was of a young man, brown hair, strong face, I presumed it was a brother, or a son…" Mary failed to notice the glances exchanged between the six, "…but I didn't ask. Why do you want to know?"

Chris jerked his hand in a dismissive gesture and shrugged,

"No reason."

Mary didn't believe him, but luckily for Chris, a disruption took away whatever question she was about to ask.

"You are a dirty cheat!"

Everyone turned to look as a man sprung up from the seat opposite Ezra, pointing a finger accusingly at the gambler.

"A cheat and a liar,"

Ezra sighed at the man's angry accusations, and continued to pull the money lying on the tabletop towards him, pausing only briefly to meet the man's eye.

"Mr. Rawlinson, as easy as it is to make false accusations in the heat of the moment, I think you should be aware that nothing went on in this game that wasn't completely legitimate."

Rawlinson however, did not accept Ezra's statement so easily, and, finger still pointing angrily in his direction, he carried on,

"Cheat! Fraud! Your sort are nothing but trouble! We'd all be better off without - ," however, he never got to finish, for as he opened his mouth to carry on, another voice joined the debate.

"How dare you!"

All heads turned once again, and Ezra groaned quietly as Annie Evans appeared in the doorway, frail, drawn face set like thunder.

"How dare you," she repeated, taking a slow step towards him, "You talk to the man who has helped to protect this town on so many occasions as if he is nothing more than one of your cattle! You choose to mock and accuse him? Tell me then, how many people saw him cheat? None! If you are foolish enough to gamble with him in the first place, you're foolish enough to lose."

Rawlinson opened and shut his mouth in astonishment like a fish, his face turning an outraged shade of magenta. He narrowed his eyes at the elderly lady.

"I'd stay out of business that isn't yours Evans," he growled. Annie snorted,

"This is my business, and as long as you're in it, so am I."

It was Ezra who broke the tension in the end, by standing with a heavy sigh.

"Mr. Rawlinson, if at any time you would like the chance to win back your money I would be delighted to indulge you in whichever game you so choose," he nodded slightly, the brim of his hat bobbing up and down as he did so, "Miss. Evans…" Ezra stopped, lost for words and not sure of his own temper. He stopped, a sigh escaping from his lips, "If you'll excuse me."

Chris blinked at Ezra's response, he could see, for all his hidden expressions that the gambler was annoyed, and he could tell why, the entire saloon was watching the confrontation, stunned by Annie's defence of the gambler to whom she had never had any real connection with besides sharing the same main street every fortnight.

Ezra took a deep breath. He did not want to lose his temper in front of the saloon, and he did not want to show himself up any further than Annie already had, wading in as though he were a small child unable to defend himself. A dry smile crossed his lips as he wondered if Annie could even begin to comprehend the number of hostile situations he had been involved in within his lifetime. Rawlinson was nothing, and yet Annie had made him seem incapable.

As he stalked off, intent on letting off steam in his room, he avoided eye contact with the elderly woman, aware her sharp eyes were on him the entire time.

As he went to leave, Mary stepped in front of him softly, holding out the paper,

"This telegram came for you today."

She stepped back as he took it, and he met her eyes warmly,

"Thank you Mrs. Travis," his hand instinctively went to his brim in a show of appreciation, before he turned and left the dazed onlookers to talk amongst themselves.

Chris watched Annie Evans quivering in the doorway, taking deep shaky breaths, large eyes on where Ezra had disappeared from view, her expression one of sorrow and confusion. He turned back to look at the others, who seemed equally as stunned and sombre and gave a quick shake of his head. Definitely something up there.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Well, I'm up here at uni. Managed to finish this story off last night, on my first night (I was absolutely shattered btw!) So at least posting should be fairly prompt from now on!

Am off shopping for supplies now! Enjoy! Thank you to my reviewers past, present and still to come as well!


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five.**

Ezra had to laugh. He let the telegram slide from his limp hands and flutter to the floor as he hung his head.

He was miserable, he was crowded by Annie Evans, who left him feeling trapped and claustrophobic, and, just as she had begun to uncomfortably remind him of his own mother and difficult childhood, along had come Maude's telegram.

His fingers rubbed at his eyes in emotional exhaustion, and he chuckled in disbelief as he thought of his mother's words.

_Dear Son. Will not be visiting. Making developments. Maude. _

He hadn't seen or heard from her for months, and that was her chosen communication? He didn't even know she had been planning on visiting. He sighed deeply, it wasn't that he was even surprised, or putout, it was just another part of the Standish family riddle.

There was a tap at the door, and he looked up as it swung open on its hinges. He groaned as Annie strode in, head held high.

"Miss. Evans," Ezra stood from the bed quickly, turning his back to the old woman, "I implore you, find someone else's life to meddle in, you are done here madam."

Annie ignored him swiftly, her voice when she spoke, eerily low and controlled,

"You know, I didn't appreciate being spoken to in that manner down there. You made me look quite ridiculous in front of everyone," she smoothed one of his shirts absent-mindedly, "What are they going to think now?"

"I couldn't care less Miss Evans. Now would you please, leave me alone."

He turned to hurry her out of the room, only to stop on realising that she wasn't looking at him, and was instead gazing at herself in the mirror, one finger distantly drawing along the lines across her face, in her hand was Maude's letter, hanging loosely by her side from where she'd scooped it from the floor. She took a deep breath,

"We only ever want what's best. There's only so long you can press them to your side before they want to see the world…" her voice sounded strange, far-away, almost musical, and her head tilted slowly to one side, as if trying to get a better look at something, "…just like his father, always finding himself trouble, acting as if nothing in the world mattered to him, but I could see it did, I could see him hurting. My brave, beautiful boy," her voice caught in her throat as her bottom lip trembled, her eyes glazing over as a film of tears shone in the lamplight.

Ezra frowned, aware that Annie was not talking to him as much as she was herself. He swallowed, suddenly acutely aware of seeing something personal, a private emotion in an otherwise closely guarded person.

As she blinked, a tear spilt over her eyelid, and trickled slowly down her cheek, tracing every rivulet and line, and painting a wet line down the old woman's worn face. Slowly she turned to him,

"Why did you do it? I begged you not to. Sticks and stones I always said, but you had to go and try and teach them a lesson didn't you? Look where that left you! Look where that left me!" her voice rose steadily, and she turned back to the mirror, the crumpled letter moving to her face to stifle a sob.

Ezra took a step forward as Annie rubbed her face with a hand, wiping away the tears.

He cleared his throat,

"Miss Evans."

Part of him felt resentful, there he was, trying to wallow in the self-pity and loathing she had brought on him, and all she wanted him to do was wallow in hers.

She turned back to him, blinking as if finally seeing him. She turned back to the letter, realising it was clutched in her hand, she paused as if coming to her senses, and indicated the letter,

"What a mother teaches her children are the most important lessons in the world."

Ezra snorted, somehow he didn't think Annie was talking about poker, which ruled out the majority, if not all of Maude's life lessons.

"A mother is the inspiration to her children, she gives faith, love, support, knowledge, protection and life, and she would give up her life if she had to,"

Ezra listened carefully, trying to work out where Annie was going with her sentence, and trying to picture Maude in all those roles and failing. Annie drew a wobbly breath,

"But she can't save her children from theirselves. I…" she stopped, suddenly ashamed, and turned to look at Ezra once more, "You need mothering don't you?" it sounded more like a plea than a question, and Ezra shook his head, meeting her eyes,

"No."

He already had one, which, as far as he was concerned was one too many. Annie looked crushed, and indicated his telegram once more,

"But, but this isn't a mother. Not the mother you need. You need support, constancy…" Annie got no further, because Ezra's stance changed, his shoulders grew rigid, his jaw set tight, and his eyes narrowed.

Not only was she trying to fill a part in his life Ezra had long struggled with, and both scaring and angering him in the process, now Annie Evans was criticising his mother, not something he was adverse to, but something which he alone considered himself worthy of. No one knew Maude like Ezra did, no one understood her like he did, and no one understood them together, not even him.

He did not need another parent, and he certainly didn't want one.

"Get out," he growled, all decorum missing. Annie blinked at him, "Leave!" he snapped, making her jump.

Annie put down the letter hurriedly on the desktop, her hands out to him imploringly,

"Wait! Wait! I just …don't be angry! I just want to help you…"

Ezra strode over towards the door, holding it open for her to leave. She stood rigidly on the spot, seeming confused and flustered. Ezra ignored all her signs of distress,

"I already have a mother Miss. Evans, I do not need another, and I do not wish to have anyone tell me about my own relationship with her. You do not have the right to talk about me as if you know me, and certainly have no right to intrude in my life in such an intrusive and unwelcome manner."

He watched her closely, still rooted to the spot and unmoving. Eventually he sighed, and left the room himself, grabbing his hat from the bed, and heading briskly down the corridor. Although he had every intention of leaving, his exit spurred her into action, and she raced after him as fast as she could go, calling him,

"I can help you! I just want to help you…"

Her cries fell on deaf ears, and as Ezra descended the steps wearily, her heard her footfalls behind him.

The other six men were gathered about at the bottom of the staircase, and watched him head towards them with concerned expressions.

"You ok there Ezra?" asked Buck, his question swiftly ignored as Annie Evans sped uncertainly down the last few steps, dashing after Ezra as her feet connected with the floor.

"You need -," Annie was cut off as Ezra spun around before the swing-doors,

"You are wrong. I do not need anything, not from you."

Annie stopped, gasping for breath, ignoring her spinning head and the unsteady room about her, blinking as her eyes swam and her head ached like a lighting strike with every beat of her heart.

"I know you Ezra Standish," she breathed rapidly, "I can help you. I know what you are,"

Ezra looked up at her, clearly dryly amused by her latest claim,

"Really?" he drawled, "And what is that?"

People had once again started to lapse into silence around them, and the other six stared on, but this time, Ezra didn't notice, he was incredulously fixated by Annie, the wild woman who had staked a claim in his life.

Annie let out a sigh, desperation mixing with pain and despair.

"A frightened little boy looking for acceptance."

Chris watched as Ezra's expressionless face changed. He watched confusion flick across the gambler's face, to be replaced with a look of pure sadness. As Ezra stood looking at the woman, searching for the words to respond, Chris guessed that Annie had hit the proverbial nail on the head.

Slowly, Ezra sighed, his voice low and defeated.

"Enough Miss Evans, enough. I cannot stand the constant scrutiny. My life is my own, and you have no place in it, nor will you ever. Leave me be madam."

Annie watched in amazement as he leant against the doors and left quietly. Her head was rushing, a roaring sound in her ears, her legs were trembling, every part of her was trembling, and spots were replacing objects in her vision. But most of all, Annie Evans' heart ached. She had no one's love, she was all alone, and very confused.

"Miss. Evans?"

A tall gunslinger was before her, confusion and anger intermixed. She went to take a step towards the door, and suddenly her legs gave way, as she toppled over, followed by startled cries from around the room, she only had one coherent thought, which she muttered sleepily as her world turned black..

"Get my son."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sorry this took so long! Will post the next bit up on Friday, and the last bit Sunday night if I remember! Uni has been quite busy this week so my apologies for forgetting to update! Also a bit worried because we haven't seen one of our flatmates for a few days, the office doesn't know where she is and has advised us to call the police if she doesn't turn up! She's probably out staying with a friend, but it all adds to the drama over here! Anyway, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers, who cheer me up after a long day of lectures!


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six.**

It was JD who found Ezra, in the stables, running a hand absently along the strong neck of his chestnut horse, forehead resting against the animal's nose, eyes closed. For a moment the young sheriff paused, thinking about how drawn his friend looked, and how weary, however, Ezra, sensing a presence, opened his eyes and let out a sigh.

"I assure you Mr. Dunne that I am fine whatever my earlier outburst implied."

JD paused, and then shook his head uncertainly,

"No, it's not you Ezra…well, I mean, obviously we, I mean I -," he gave up as he floundered hopelessly, and Ezra turned to face him as he continued to fumble, "It's Miss Evans Ezra, she's collapsed."

Ezra blinked at him, trying to angrily push away the shock that was knawing at him. He cleared his throat and eyed JD coolly,

"Which has exactly what to do with me?"

JD stopped, more than a little surprised by Ezra's attitude,

"Well, she asked for her son see, and we just thought -," he paused again, aware that he was slowly digging himself a large hole, and that Ezra was looking at him intently.

The gambler's shoulders drooped.

"And you thought that I filled that description?" he sighed, the sentence coming out as more of a statement.

JD shrugged helplessly, aware that the gambler was less than eager to follow him back,

"She's in a bad way Ezra," he said softly.

Ezra let his eyes fall down to the ground, guilt and duty were not feelings he often felt, and even more rarely did they both happen upon him, but this was such an occasion. Wearily, feeling devoid of any strength, he looked back up.

"Lead me to her JD."

Annie Evans looked a lot worse than Ezra had expected her to, she was pale, trembling, her eyelids were fluttering, as if in an attempt to stay conscious, and her breathing was rapid and difficult. Ezra paused on the threshold of the saloon, shocked, watching as the woman struggled for life, her wild hair clinging to her face.

Nathan looked up from where he was crouched by the woman's side. He felt pity for Ezra, which he knew was the last thing the gambler wanted. But here was this woman who had barged into his life, confused and troubled him more than the rest of them had ever seen, and was now dying before his eyes.

Nathan ran a tongue across his lips,

"Ezra," he said, quietly. The others, on hearing Nathan call the gambler's name, turned to look at him, all gazes uncomfortable and watching carefully for his reaction.

Ezra's eyes were fixed on Annie's face as he took a step closer.

"What's wrong with her Nathan?" he asked softly.

Nathan looked away from him, and from the averted eye contact, Ezra guessed the news wasn't good. He swallowed,

"Is there anything you can do?"

The healer shook his head,

"No. She's too far gone. She must've known it was coming too, gone somewhere remote to live out her last days in peace."

Ezra stayed quiet, his mind flashing back through all the moments Annie had seemed frail and in pain. Someone there was a deep stabbing sensation of guilt as he realised how little he'd done for her in those moments, too concerned about himself.

It was as a sense of self-pity washed over him, that Annie Evans gasped for breath, her eyes fluttering open.

"Johnny?"

All eyes turned to Ezra, and Chris and Vin exchanged uncomfortable looks with Buck and Josiah.

Ezra ran his tongue across his lips, which suddenly seemed dry. He paused, somewhere he was spooked. Spooked at the thought of someone loving him like a son. He'd never had it before, not from his mother, well, not in any conventional way. It was an emotion and feeling he'd always so wanted, and yet here was a mother reaching out for the love of her son. Only it wasn't him.

Nathan was watching him closely, and, as Ezra stood watching Annie's eyes flick across his face, a smile of adulation spreading across her face, he crossed the room, dropped to his knees, and took up the frail old woman's hand.

"I'm here mother," he whispered softly.

As somewhere in the background someone cleared their throat, Nathan stood up, suddenly feeling like an intruder, and backed off to stand with the others.

Annie let out a sigh,

"Always such a good boy," she whispered, her eyelids flickering, and small tears forming in the corners of her eyes, "Didn't matter what anyone told you, you were always my boy. But you let them get to you…the names, the tormenting…"

Ezra couldn't pretend to know what she was talking about, but his face remained comforting as he watched the tears roll miserably down the sides of her face and trickle into her hairline as her head rocked slowly from side to side against the wooden floor.

"I knew you were a god boy, even after you.." she paused, "…you, showed them what you were made of. I said, 'not my boy, not my boy.' It wasn't you up there, not you on the end of that rope. You were always here with me…" she raised her hand, and rested it against Ezra's cheek. He let it stay there was he absorbed her words, piecing together her fractured history. She sniffed again, "I should have protected you."

Another tear broke free and rolled down the side of her cheek and Ezra moved slowly to wipe it away with his thumb, shushing her gently.

"Don't think of the bad times. We're together again now," he whispered.

Annie nodded slowly, her eyelids flickering rapidly.

"Forever," she whispered.

Ezra nodded, a small, sad smile spreading across his face. He felt the grip of her hand weakening, and listened as she struggled for breath. He let his other hand rest against her forehead, and watched as her eyes searched his face for something,

"She's going," he heard Nathan whisper softly behind him. He nodded.

Annie gave a long, weary blink, and gazed up at him,

"Never make any excuses for who you are son, never compromise yourself, or feel ashamed…you are kind, brave and beautiful…and anyone who has the fortune to know you will find that out,"

Ezra felt his heart tighten as she gazed up at him, looking right into his soul. Slowly he smiled, and watched her nod once as her eyes shut and she took another difficult breath.

They sat in silence for at least an hour. Ezra, holding the hand of the woman who had made him consider himself and his relationships more than anyone he'd known, Nathan, quietly checking her progress once in a while, and the other five, who, with hats off, waited with their friend, trying to share some of his emotional burden. Even without words Ezra felt that, and, as he watched mesmerized by the inconsistent rising and falling of Annie Evans' chest as the minutes passed by, he realised he was grateful for that.

It was nearly midnight when Nathan looked up at Ezra, his expression full of compassion for the gambler who seemed exhausted, eyes dry and unblinking, face full of conflict.

"She gone." He whispered.

Ezra nodded.

He didn't know how to feel. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel. It was strange, a woman he barely knew had died before him, and yet it felt as though part of him had died too. Something he had longed for ever since he could remember had vanished in front of him. He'd had a glimpse of his childhood dream, and realised that not only was it not what he had expected, but that it was so much more too.

He felt even more confused.

Slowly, dry, tired eyes blinking but almost unseeing, he took off his jacket, and laid it over the elderly woman.

A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, but, among them, was one that seemed the most fitting.

_Goodbye Mother._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hope all enjoy (flatmate not MIA, she moved out without saying!) there's one more part to come and a dedication/muse explanation that'll come with it! I hope you enjoy this, and please review folkies! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed already!


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven.**

In Chris' opinion, Ezra had not been acting like himself in the days since Annie Evans' death. The gambler had barely been out of his room, and when he had appeared he had gone to great lengths to avoid people.

Chris and the others didn't crowd him, they knew better than to take that approach, especially with the gambler, who was difficult to read at the best of times.

It was four days since Annie Evans had died before them, and the warm orange of the late afternoon sun was casting through the skies, thick with dark grey, menacing clouds. The whole effect was a surreal natural light show, with dark, suppressing colours overhead and yet warm oranges and reds playing through the chinks and across the yellow ground. Chris, standing on the boardwalk beside Josiah, nodded his head towards the red-jacketed figure crossing the street further down.

"Think he'll be ok?"

The tall preacher shrugged,

"You know Ezra," he replied, with a shrug, "It's up to him. Something about that woman shook him up like I ain't see no one do. I don't what's going on in his head."

Chris nodded, his face tight and firm. He had no idea what Ezra was going through, and even less of an idea how to change his black mood.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ezra knew they were watching him, and he didn't like it. Things were hard enough for him to figure out without the other six constantly keeping tabs on him and asking how he was. He sighed, letting go of his frustrations as he realised that at least now he had someone to show concern for him. The other six men were a family to him, not that he'd ever admit it to them, or, truly, himself. Annie had tried to fill the role of his mother, but she couldn't do it. Ezra was a lot of things because of his mother, but self-sufficient and independent was one of the things he'd taught himself to spite her. Annie had tried to take what few barriers he had built away, and terrified him at the same time.

"Mr. Standish!"

Ezra turned. A small man clinging onto small-rimmed spectacles was running across the street towards him, holding a flapping letter in his hand and clutching at something under his arm.

Ezra stopped as the man puffed up to him, still flapping the letter. After a brief respite he paused, took a deep breath, and hitched up his glasses.

"Mr. Standish?" he asked again, giving a sigh of relief as Ezra nodded, "Good. This…" he produced a book from under his arm, waving it around before Ezra's face, "…was left to you by the late Miss. Evans. Not stated in her will, but left among her personal effects might I add," he sniffed, clearly put out by the violation. Eventually, after sensing no similar response of outrage in the gambler, he handed the book over and turned sharply on his heel like a soldier and walked off.

Ezra let his surprise sink in, and ran a thumb over the worn leather cover of the thick volume, almost afraid to open it. His fingers played along the binding, before finally he took a chance, and opened up the volume.

It was a diary, a notebook of thoughts, events and what looked like poetry. He let a smile of genuine surprise slide across his face as he let each page paint another picture of the Annie Evans he thought he'd known, and who in death was still surprising him.

As the pages flicked past his fingers, a note written on the first page caught his eye. The ink seemed a darker colour here, as if the scribblings were new. He narrowed his eyes to look at them.

"Never let anything in the past destroy your future. Learn from your mistakes to improve the decisions to come. Life is what you make it. Make it good."

He smiled. A wide grin forming on his face as he let the words sink in, and fill his heart. As thunder rumbled off somewhere in the distance, Ezra let his gaze drift upwards to the clouds. As he did, his eyes caught something that was floating down, towards him, swinging back and forth on the breeze. He blinked as it rocked past his eyes and dropped to his feet.

It was a large white feather.

He bent down to pick it up carefully, watching each individual soft white branch ruffle in the wind. Involuntarily, the grin spread back across his face, and he looked up at the sky with a knowing smile.

Life was whatever he made it.

He was going to make it good.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

JD joined Chris and Josiah on the side of the boardwalk, sticking his hands into his pockets, and using his head to gesture towards Ezra.

"He gonna be all right?"

Josiah watched as Ezra bent to pick something up from the ground, a smile spreading over his face.

The preacher sighed, a relieved smile of his own forming.

"You know. I think he will be. I think he will be."


	8. A Dedication

**Notes.**

Firstly, I sort of wanted to dedicate this story to the memory of Caron Keating. She was a presenter over here in the UK who died of cancer aged only 41.

The idea for this story came from reading an interview with Gloria Hunniford, Caron's mother, who was explaining how Caron used to believe in guardian angels, and how the sign of one watching over you is finding a goose feather. One day after Caron had died, Gloria found a goose feather in her hallway, with no logical explanation as to how it got there. The interview brought a tear to my eye, and I thought it would be good for a story…how that became a platform for Ezra's angst is anyone's guess.

But I just thought I'd share my muse with everyone, because I found the interview so touching, and didn't want to steal something so precious without letting everyone know where I'd found the idea first.

Hope you all enjoyed, and thank you for reading and reviewing everyone hugs.


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